All About Us
by ohsimplething
Summary: Blaine is living in a broken world he wishes he could fix with words. He imagines a beautiful stranger, only to find his writing stretches beyond the pages. Kurt is real. Ruby Sparks!AU
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I wrote this (and a couple of other chapters in this story) about two years ago and just found it all on my hard drive. Even though Glee's finished, I hope people still read about this incredible couple._

 _Review and let me know if you want me to post more._

 _X_

* * *

It's cold out when Blaine settles on a park bench, notebook in hand, one leg crossed over the other more out of habit than anything else. Leaves chase each other around his feet until the wind sweeps them up in one big gust and they sink to the ground haphazardly. It's unseasonably cold for Fall and Blaine takes a moment to thank his mother for her many years of nagging him to always carry a coat. A skeleton of a smile reaches his lips and he supposes it's nice he has something to thank that woman for.

Twirling the pen between his fingers absentmindedly, Blaine takes in the hustle and bustle of a Sunday afternoon in Central Park. There are couples everywhere, hands and hearts intertwined as they share a leisurely stroll. Others are walking alone or getting pulled along by dogs much more eager than their owners. His eyes scour the area, waiting for inspiration to strike, until they eventually fall on a vacant park bench opposite where he's sitting.

His eyes remain there for moments, minutes, tracing the edges of wood as he ponders the stories of those who have sat there over time. He imagines the many conversations that have taken place, the arguments, the confessions, the lies told and the love shared. He'd like to think life is more than just a contradiction but he knows better.

An old couple, both graying with withered smiles that somehow still illuminate their faces soon approach the bench and sit close together, aged hands linked. They don't talk; they don't need to. Instead they sit in silence and just _be_.

Blaine sighs; he wants that. He wants the comfort of another body next to his, the familiarity of that one person who knows you better than yourself, the promise of someone to grow old with. Maybe one day, he hopes.

The familiar rush of creativity begins to flow through his veins as he opens his worn notebook, turns to a new page and writes. He writes to feel the light drag of pen across paper, finding the sensation as soothing as always. He writes to create something of his own, something he can be proud of. He writes to escape the world he wishes were less broken and more like the idealised society his young mind had imagined. He writes.

An hour quickly passes in words pouring out of him like water from a broken faucet and Blaine pauses for a moment to read over the seven pages he's managed to fill with nothing more than deep and detailed description.

 _It begins with the quirk of a smile more beautiful than any sight the boy had seen before. It's honest, compelling, real. Then eyes meet and the orbs staring back at him morph from green to blue to green again as the sun dances at different angles. Impeccably dressed and hair styled to perfection, it's obvious that this man takes appearance seriously. His tall, lithe frame hints at a past in dancing and the boy wonders if he'll ever discover the amount of truth in this assumption. Across from him, the stranger sits with grace yet still holds himself with a certain pride, and the boy marvels at the way in which he feels drawn to the man without knowing a single thing about him. His face is warm and inviting but ethereal in a way that has the boy questioning his existence._

 _His skin is milky white,_ _almost like porcelain. The boy later learns how fitting this is as he clasps the man's hand in his and hears his name for the first time._

 _Kurt Hummel._

The sound of feet meeting gravel brings Blaine back to the present and his eyes lift from the page in front of him to settle on the park bench opposite. It's now occupied by a man who looks strangely familiar. Blaine can't think of where he's seen him before so he stares for a little while longer, his mind whirring as he takes in this stranger's beauty. After a moment, the man catches Blaine's eye and smiles. It's a greeting without words and Blaine smiles back, his heart pitter-pattering faster and faster the longer their eyes stay locked.

Blaine's so shy now. Maybe in his early high school days, before his confidence was shattered into a mess of bruised ribs and a broken collarbone, he would approach him. Tell him he had the most beautiful smile he'd ever laid eyes on. Ask him if he'd maybe like to go for some coffee to warm the fingers that were no doubt freezing beneath his designer gloves.

But Blaine knows better than anyone that he's no longer that self-assured boy from his past. Some days, _most_ days, he wishes he were, but people change and wishes don't come true.

As if sensing Blaine's hesitancy, the stranger stands up and closes the few metres separating them, offering Blaine another smile as brilliant as his first. Blaine feels his heart speed up even more and he takes a deep breath in a vain attempt to still the rapid beating.

"Hi," Beautiful Stranger says, coming to stand in front of him. His voice is angelic - _how fittin_ g.

"Hi," Blaine echoes and he hopes he doesn't sound as nervous as he feels.

The man falters for a second, his eyes flicker to the ground as if unsure of the real reason he came over in the first place. He hesitates just one more moment before diving in, "I promise I'm not some freak who approaches strangers as a really weird hobby," he says with a small grin that Blaine can't help but return, "It's just, I've had a really bad day and I know this isn't like preschool where you talk to someone and you're instantly the best of buds, but I could really use a friend. Okay, wow, that was forward, let's rewind! What I _meant_ to say was: Hi. I love your coat. Where did you get it?"

Blaine can't help but find the verbose response incredibly endearing and just a little bit adorable, and he relishes in the fact that this man hasn't come over to ask him to stop smiling creepily from across the path. For the second time today, he thanks his mother's voice in the back of his head for badgering him to pull on a coat before leaving his apartment.

"Um, it was a present from my brother," Blaine tells him, unconsciously rubbing a thumb and forefinger over the material covering his wrist. He wishes he had a more eloquent reply, something to wow this man but his usual bashfulness is kicking in and even if he feels the sudden urge to share everything, he hasn't the words or the courage to do so.

Beautiful Stranger nods, that gorgeous smile still in place as he unashamedly looks Blaine up and down. "Mmm, I approve of his taste."

"Well he likes to keep up with what's in and dress me appropriately," Blaine shrugs and then realises what he's just said. "Not that I still live with my brother," he hastens to clarify and Beautiful Stranger laughs, his eyes somehow even brighter than before and Blaine can already feel the tug of his heart threatening to open up and let someone new in. "He just visits a lot. Well, not as much anymore but -" Blaine stops abruptly and bites his lip. "Sorry, I'm not usually like this. I don't tend to blab on about my life to strangers."

"It's fine," the man assures with another laugh and Blaine relaxes at the sound of it. They stare at each other for a moment before Beautiful Stranger offers his hand and it's another second before Blaine realises he's trying to introduce himself. Blaine grins and takes the outstretched hand in his, the skin against his own just as smooth as he had imagined. He feels a spark of sorts shoot through him as the stranger – no, _friend_ , Blaine corrects himself – squeezes his hand and he almost laughs at how clichéd this is. Life isn't a fairy tale, or some romantic comedy starring Meg Ryan, but right now feels like it and he doesn't even try to hide the smile spreading across his face.

"My name's Kurt. Kurt Hummel," the Beautiful No-Longer-Stranger supplies and suddenly Blaine recognises the colour-changing eyes staring back at him as the ones he wrote of minutes before. His eyes take in Kurt's lean form, stunning smile and snow-white skin, and he wonders if anything in life is more than just a coincidence.


	2. Chapter 2

_A spark is instant. Jolting. Sometimes fizzling out after one short breath, other times burning strong as time stretches impossibly long. It connects two beings in a way no other can. A tether of sorts is created in that one moment and it's nothing more than luck whether the bind lasts or whether it breaks._

 _The boy hopes it doesn't break._

* * *

The air is crisp as Blaine walks home, a smile fixed to his face and his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his coat. One hand is clutched around his phone, the same phone that now contains Kurt Hummel: beautiful New Yorker's phone number. He almost can't believe his luck, their afternoon turned out splendidly and it takes everything in him to resist skipping the last few blocks home.

He's so jittery that it takes several tries before he's able to get his key in the lock. On the fifth attempt the door swings open and Blaine waltzes straight into the kitchen to pour himself a large glass of water. He toes off his shoes and collects his notebook and pen from his satchel before retiring to the study. He supposes _study_ is a bit too liberal a word to use for the messy and cluttered spare room in his apartment, but it's one of his favourite places to write and has therefore earned its status.

He sets his glass down on the far side of the table, away from the spread out notebook that he's now looking at in awe. He doesn't understand, cannot possibly _begin_ to comprehend what has just happened. He flicks through the freshly inked pages, searching for some minor detail or quirk, _anything_ that sets The Man and Kurt apart. The scrawls of writing end and Blaine's fingers find new white pages.

He puts pen to paper and relives his conversation with Kurt. Once he'd gotten over his immediate shock, Blaine had been quick to introduce himself and with a sudden, uncharacteristic jolt of bravery, had patted the empty part of the park bench next to him with a glint in his eye that suggested Kurt join him. Looking back on it, he's not sure what came over him. He isn't forward anymore, hasn't been for a long time but something about this guy had just left him wanting _more_.

More of his voice, more of his smile, more of anything Kurt's willing to offer.

He's very thankful it's not just one conversation. That being said he's yet to test out the number Kurt gave him and he hates the tiny part of his brain telling him it might be a fake. Kurt wouldn't do that though, they clicked this afternoon and Blaine knows it wasn't just him that felt it.

They ended up talking for half an hour, about New York, about the joys and struggles of living there and whatever else managed to come up. They talked until Kurt had caught sight of Blaine's watch and exclaimed that he was going to be _so_ late if he didn't leave right now. He suggested they exchange numbers with only a hint of a blush in place and Blaine wondered how he could be so confident. He didn't complain though, just handed his phone to Kurt with a wordless smile.

The thought that Kurt would want to see him again had left Blaine on a high that he wasn't sure he would come down from anytime soon. He just felt _alive_! Maybe he had become somewhat of a hermit the past year or so but even if he saw hundreds of people a day, he knew Kurt would still stand out. He was special.

And that's when Blaine remembered why Kurt had approached him in the first place. He needs a _friend_ , Blaine reminded himself, not some weird guy mooning over him. Hell, he didn't even know if Kurt was gay, though surely he hadn't imagined the flirty tone to their conversation or the way Kurt's eyes had lingered over his body maybe a second or three too long when they said goodbye. It's been a long time since he's felt this instant, strange but pleasant connection to someone though, and he hopes more than anything that Kurt feels it too.

 _God, you're obsessing already_ , Blaine thinks. He splashes a little water on his face, trying to let the fact that he's known Kurt _two hours_ sink in so he'll stop acting like they're potential soul mates.

Still, Kurt does want a friend, and whilst Blaine hasn't had the best experience at being one, he knows he would settle for anything if it meant spending more time with the man. With a small smile on his face, Blaine turns his attention back to his notebook and begins to write of a friendship that rivals any other. It's only when he stops hours later and trudges to bed that he really feels alone.

Blaine waits two days before texting Kurt. After a bit too much deliberation to be considered healthy, he types out a message and sends it before he has time to chicken out. He cringes as he re-reads the text. Why oh why had he not inherited Cooper's charm?

To Kurt:

 _Hi! Wanna grab a coffee sometime? This is Blaine by the way, from Central Park. We talked for like half an hour – not that I was counting. Anyway you said you could use a friend? I'm up for the position if it's still open._

It's the cheesy ending line that makes him hate himself the most and he feels a blush crawl up his neck and spread across his cheeks in record time. He wonders if he'll even get a response, his stomach is in knots at the thought of rejection, but he only has to wait a minute before his phone is vibrating.

From Kurt:

 _Ah, Coat Guy, how could I forget? I'm actually craving coffee like crazy! Do you maybe wanna meet up in an hour? Only if you haven't got something better to do. And yes, Blaine, the position is still open. Is it too early on in this friendship to call you a dork?_

Blaine grins and his heart thuds in his chest at both the nickname and Kurt's offhand use of the word 'friendship.' Too many people have let him down over the years for the term to still be sacred, but he feels a cozy comfort fill him nonetheless.

To Kurt:

 _That sounds perfect. How about one of the Starbucks near Central Park? And no, it's never too early to accept my dork-like ways._

Blaine fidgets as he waits for Kurt to respond, too keyed up to see how pathetic he's being. He'll laugh about it later but right now he's too busy staring at his phone. He almost jumps when it vibrates again and this time he lets out a soft chuckle.

From Kurt:

 _Sure, the one on West 57th? Can't wait._

Blaine's stomach flips over itself and he rushes to get ready.

They meet outside at a quarter past three with shy smiles and small waves. Kurt's dressed impeccably once again, tight jeans hugging all the right places and a shirt that accentuates toned arms that were hidden beneath a thick jacket days before. A loose scarf trails over his neck, drawing attention to his exposed and pronounced collarbone. Blaine forces himself not to comment. If he does, he'll likely stammer out a bold statement similar to the clichéd _Nice clothes, I bet they'd look better on my bedroom floor._ And he refuses to make a fool out of himself.

"This should feel weird, shouldn't it?" Kurt asks as they stand in line, having already exchanged pleasantries.

"I don't know," Blaine admits.

"I mean I met you three days ago," Kurt continues, biting the corner of his lip as he thinks, causing Blaine to avert his eyes. "And we didn't talk for that long, yet I feel like, I don't know, I could say anything to you and you wouldn't care or judge or tell anyone or…"

"I wouldn't," Blaine agrees earnestly and Kurt smiles.

"I know. And that's the weird part…it takes me ages to give out my trust to someone. And you seem to have somehow already earned it."

It takes a second for Blaine to process that and before he has the chance to reply - though he has no idea with what - Kurt's taking a step closer to the counter and ordering for them. Blaine manages a quiet _medium drip_ when Kurt looks at him expectantly and they sidestep to the left to wait for their drinks.

"Sorry, I'm being weird," Kurt apologises and Blaine shakes his head.

"You're not. Sorry I'm not talking more, I'm just a little nervous."

"Nervous?" Kurt echoes, cocking his head to the side in the most adorable way possible. "Why? I guess it could be that serial killer vibe I give off occasionally."

Blaine laughs awkwardly, his cheeks heating up as he shrugs, "I don't go out for coffee much. With other people, I mean. I don't really have a lot of friends."

A short silence sets in as Kurt considers him, his eyes warm and welcoming. He's surprised by Blaine's words but he understands, more than almost anyone. He's been there, hell he _is_ there, but he knows all it takes is one person to take notice, for one person to care and suddenly the world feels a little bit less empty.

There's a tiny hint of worry beginning to taint the smile Kurt is growing to love so much, so he smiles himself and it does wonders to reassure Blaine, "Excellent, that means you need me as much as I need you. Now where would you like to sit?"

They choose a table by the window and Blaine is eternally grateful to Kurt for letting his stupid comment go without a fuss. He's also glad he at least had the common sense to lie about why he was nervous. Yes, he doesn't have many friends but he doesn't know anyone who makes his heart beat this fast either.

"So…" Kurt drawls, his fingers clasped around his mug of coffee, tapping occasionally, "We never discussed jobs or college the other day. What is it that you do with your time?"

"Um, I majored in creative writing at Hamilton last year before moving out to Manhattan." Blaine smiles each time he tells this story because he takes pride in his achievements. His parents may not see a Bachelor of the Arts as impressive but he will forever be glad he followed his own dreams.

"Ahh, that would explain the notepad."

"Yeah, Central Park is surprisingly inspiring. It's clichéd but it's true."

Kurt grins, "So do you want to be an author then or…?"

"I'm not sure," Blaine says honestly, "I want to write, that's a definite, whether it's for enjoyment or as a career I don't know, but I think writing will always be a huge part of my life. How about you?"

"I'm studying fashion design at FIT," Kurt explains, taking a sip of his drink and Blaine most certainly does not focus on the way Kurt's Adam's apple bobs as he swallows. "Stereotypical gay, I know, but there's something beautiful about expressing yourself through different fabrics and colours and patterns."

Blaine hides a grin behind his cup of coffee; so Kurt's definitely gay. Although he knows that doesn't mean anything in terms of Kurt's attraction, or lack thereof, towards him, he's at least glad he's the right gender.

"I'm gay too!" Blaine blurts out, then covers his mouth immediately as his eyes widen slightly. It doesn't sound like an admission, it sounds like a cry for help and he never meant for his sexuality to come out like that - no pun intended.

"Yeah, I kinda guessed?" Kurt grins and Blaine lets out a sigh of relief; no harm no foul. "You see there's this thing called a gaydar, you might have heard of it."

"Shut up," Blaine groans, "I didn't mean to say it so suddenly or weirdly or at all, really. I just thought you should know. Anyway let's move on, tell me more about FIT. Or you could let me fall into the hole that's just conveniently opened up in the middle of the floor."

Kurt side eyes him but obliges anyway and begins to tell the story of how he'd managed to snag an internship at Tommy Hilfiger. "It's part of the course, to intern for a major fashion business, but they don't generally keep sophomores for more than six months. By some stroke of luck, I'm still working there ten months on. I'd like to think that means I've done something right, but I'm not so sure these days."

Blaine frowns, "How come?"

"I don't know, I keep making mistakes recently and my creativity is getting quashed. I just feel like I don't belong there anymore…" Kurt sighs and shakes his head, looking slightly sheepish, "Sorry, when I so strangely demanded a friend the other day I didn't mean someone I could just rant and complain at, I swear."

They both grin and something passes between them before Blaine simply says, "That's what friends are for."

A few more minutes pass before their mugs are empty and they fall quiet for the first time all afternoon. Kurt looks outside, only for a split second, but Blaine notices and suggests they go for a walk. His timidity seems to be melting away the longer he spends in Kurt's presence and he feels _valiant_ for being the one to propose they continue talking, so valiant that he almost slips up and asks if Kurt has a boyfriend. _He needs a_ _ **friend**_ , Blaine reminds himself for the umpteenth time and he tries to force all ideas of wooing to the back of his mind.

The sun is actually peeking through the clouds today, providing an unexpected warmth, meaning their walk is anything but unpleasant. Blaine asks Kurt more about the problems at his workplace but he shies away from the subject and brings up writing until they find themselves in the middle of a ten-minute discussion about the pros and cons of Shakespeare.

"All I know is there's _nothing_ romantic about two preteens killing themselves because they've had a crush for a few days and their daddies won't let them date," Kurt finishes, crossing his arms to show he won't be swayed into believing otherwise. Blaine just snorts at the haughty action and rolls his eyes playfully.

"Kurt, the beauty you see in clothes is how I feel about words. And sure, Shakespeare isn't a favourite, and maybe a few of his storylines aren't the best, but there's an undeniable lure to his style of writing."

Grinning because passionate Blaine is just so _cute_ , Kurt shakes his head, "Nuh-uh. Give me a good Nicholas Sparks novel any day, at least those make sense."

"His plotlines are intriguing," Blaine allows and even though they've been bickering back and forth over something he cares about more than he'd like to admit, it's been _fun_ and he's certain he hasn't laughed this much in a good year, probably more.

They end up back at Central Park, chattering about nonsensical things as they walk past the trees and benches that Blaine knows will always remind him of the day they met. Their fingers brush occasionally and it's only for a second but they both feel a rush of adrenaline each time skin meets. _This is how it's supposed to feel_ , Blaine thinks briefly before squashing the thought deep down.

"I should really get going if I want to be home in time to cook dinner," Kurt says eventually. He's noticeably reluctant and Blaine checks his watch to make sure several hours haven't ticked by whilst they've been talking.

"Wait, where do you live?" Blaine asks and instantly blanches, "Not that I'm gonna rob you or anything..."

Kurt laughs, "Rob away, my loft is far from full. I'm sort of poor, which you could guess from the fact that I live in Brooklyn. On the outskirts, but still."

"Wait," Blaine says again, "You traveled over half an hour just for a cup of coffee?"

"Maybe I really like coffee," Kurt shrugs. _Or maybe I really like you._

Blaine doesn't want to say goodbye, would happily continue chatting until afternoon turned to night and night turned to day again but he knows that's not an option. He also knows he's being obsessive again, but he can't help it. Kurt's _wonderful_ and he almost feels an ache as he waves him off minutes later.

He begins his stroll home, buzzing with energy and inspiration and he only lasts seven minutes before pulling his phone out and messaging Kurt.

To Kurt:

 _Are you sure I can't walk and subway you home? What if you get mugged or stabbed or you fall and scrape your knee and cut open your favourite jeans and you'll just be on the sidewalk, crying over ripped denim, and I'll never know?!_

From Kurt:

 _Oh, Blaine, what makes me think I'm going to regret calling on you to be my friend?_

To Kurt:

 _Good instincts. Run whilst you still can, Kurt Hummel._

* * *

A/N: Thankyou to those who reviewed, please feel free to give me your thoughts!


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